


hold all my cliches on the tip of my tongue

by nbrook



Series: Dialogue prompts [1]
Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Banter, Fluff, Humor, M/M, One Liners, Smut, Texting, Valentine's Day, hair bleaching, soft boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:14:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29706663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nbrook/pseuds/nbrook
Summary: Sander recruits Robbe to help him bleach his hair again. And hey, it's Valentine's Day!
Relationships: Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans
Series: Dialogue prompts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2194125
Comments: 13
Kudos: 93





	hold all my cliches on the tip of my tongue

**Author's Note:**

> Texts on the right are Robbe's, texts on the left are Sander's
> 
> ***
> 
> This fic is the result of dialogue prompts from tumblr, fandom's longing for Sander's blond hair and the disappointment caused by the content we got on VD.
> 
> The dialogue prompts involved:  
> [text] Living alone for four weeks has given me unrealistic expectations of pantslessness.  
> “Did you do this on purpose?!”  
> “Stop pinning this on me! You started it!”  
> “Do you want me to leave?”  
> “Your hair is so soft…”  
> [text] Who says no to sex and donuts?!  
> marry me  
> “I can’t believe you dragged me into this.”
> 
> ***
> 
> The title comes from Ben Howard's masterpiece "Time Is Dancing" 💛

**January 8th 7:54**

Good morning x

😘

Do you know what day it is? 

.....do YOU know???

I know 😏

👨🏼🎤🎂

🥺🥺🥺🥺

What

I thought you couldn't possibly get more perfect omg ❤

😌

Marry me

**7:58**

Did you run away 😂

🙄 no

Are you blushing

😒

Are you... freaking out? 😬

No!

You just always surprise me when you say stuff like that okay 

Bad surprise or good surprise???

😌

😘

🥰

Haha okay 

  
  


**January 20th**

Can you come by around 18 instead of 17? I want to get a haircut real quick 

Awww but I like it long and fluffy

I knooow but I'm sick of styling my hair for million hours everyday to look decent 😩

Okay I guess it’s okay then :(

Actually I think I should go to

😳

Nope

Nopenopenopenopenopenope 

Oh so that's how it is? 😂

Please don't do this to me robin!

You're impossible

Impossibly handsome you mean 😏

That too 🔥

I promise I won't cut it too short

Okay 🙃

I know you like to grab it 

Omg sander 

😈

Get your mind out ot the gutter for 5 seconds please 

Why though

My parents are still in Australia so 😈

You know, I think living alone for four weeks has given me unrealistic expectations of pantslessness 🤔

🤣 

Please wear pants when I come over

Whatever hater

  
  


**February 12th**

Robbe 😏

Sander 😏

Would you want to become the best boyfriend ever and help me out? 😏

I thought I already was the best boyfriend 💔 

You are! ❤

So rude

And two days before valentines day wow sander I thought you were better than that 🥺

Stop fishing for compliments, I think last time I was pretty VOCAL about you being the best wasn't I? Do you want a repeat performance? 😏

I mean

I'm in

I'm in for you being in too 👌🏼

SANDER I HAVE A CLASS SJSJSJS

🤪

Anyways

Back to the subject

Would you want to help me out baby? 

It could be my valentines day gift

Oh you're expecting a gift? 

Good to know 😏

Oh shush

I know you have sth for me

Why so sure?

Cause you're the most thoughtful bf ever 😘

You are ❤

❤

Hold up

?

Why do I feel like you’re buttering me up for this mysterious favor

I would never

But

Is it working

😂

Unfortunately yes

🥰

Okay so

Omg spit it out

I want you to help me bleach my hair 

!!!!

I thought you said you you'll never do it again???

Changed my mind 😎

I'm just so bored with the natural look

What do you think?

I mean it's your hair

And I think you're hot no matter the color

🙃

But 

I'm kinda excited to see you blond again 🙊

Haha I knew it!

So you're gonna help?

Are you sure you want to risk your hair with my clumsiness? 😬

I just need an assisstant, you're not gonna fuck up

I don't know 😟

Come on! It's gonna be fun!

Yeah... 

I can pay for your service 

Interesting

How much?

🍆 🍩

God please don't let it be what I think it is 

Huh? Come on! Who says no to sex and donuts?!

Oh that's a donut? 🤣

What did you think it was

Omg robbe you dirty dirty boy

You sound like Milan stooooop

Do I want to know why Milan is calling you a dirty boy? 

Nope

Okay I'll let it go then if you help me out

Ughh okay

Yaaassss

But promise not to hold it against me if you go bald? 🥺

Okay 😂

**February 13th**

Could you go to the store on your way over and bring me chocolate chip cookies? 

I've been thinking about them all day but I'm too lazy to go myself 🥺

Haha okay

Yeah?

Yeah Ill buy you your cookies 😂

You're an angel ❤❤❤

Should I bring anything else?

Just your beautiful face

Sap

😎

❤

**February 13th**

When Robbe enters the downstairs bathroom on a Saturday afternoon, it already looks like a mess, and they haven’t even started. The sink is full of various utensils and bottles thrown in there haphazardly and he looks around, his mouth quirking a little at how the place is currently the perfect representation of Sander’s chaotic energy. It’s probably for the best his mom is far, far away on another continent and doesn’t have to encounter this because she’s an orderly woman compared to her artist of a son, and it’s quite possible she would get a stroke seeing this.

And that’s even before they undoubtedly turn this place into a battlefield with their bleach shenanigans. 

“Ready?”

Sander passes him in the doorway, _accidently_ brushing his shoulder and shooting him an expectant smile. He’s carrying a wooden stool in one hand and a large chocolate chip cookie he’s happily munching on in another. He must’ve changed out of his black hoodie because now he’s wearing his “creative hours” white t-shirt, stained with a palette of intense colors that barely washed out in the washing machine. The cut off sleeves reveal his arms, and the tanned skin is contrasting so nicely with the whiteness of the material that Robbe’s gaze lingers a little on his lean tricep, taut when he puts the sturdy looking stool down.

“I was born ready,” he replies with feigned confidence that makes Sander arch his left eyebrow.

“Oh really? What happened to you being hesitant about this?”

“I realized you’re gonna look hot either way, bleached blond or bald, so there is no wrong outcome here, really.” Robbe smiles innocently, but his eyes are anything but, mischievous glints dancing in those big brown irises and it’s a look on him that never fails to make Sander’s fingers itch with the desire to have his way with him.

They have work to do though so he resorts for a cheeky comeback for now, knowing it’s going to tint Robbe’s cheeks pink right away.

“Are you talking about your secret fetish again?”

And there it is, a pretty flush spreading on those cheekbones chiseled by god himself and it’s super cute, even when followed by Robbe’s indignant scoffing. Sander absolutely adores that even over a year later there are still things he says that can make him blush and he already mourns the future days when it no longer happens and Robbe gets immune to his cheesy jokes. But, at the rate they are going so far, it’s not going to happen anytime soon.

Thank god.

“I don’t have a baldness fetish, jerk!” Robbe gives his shoulder a half-hearted push, flustered. 

“Right, right, I forgot, I am your fetish.”

He’s expecting another shove but instead, Robbe’s features morph into a private little grin, his gaze dropping to Sander’s lips as he twists his fingers into his t-shirt, bringing him closer to seal their lips together for a few magical seconds before pulling back with a loud smack, laughing a little at Sander’s dazed but intrigued face.

Then he slaps his butt cheekily, effectively pulling him out of his reverie and leaves Sander wondering where that beautiful innocent and sweet boy he fell in love with almost a year and a half ago went. The beauty and sweetness is still there but the innocence flew out the window a long time ago and Sander feels pretty responsible for this glorious corruption, oh yes he does.

“Okay, let’s do this ‘cause otherwise we’re gonna be here till Monday.” Robbe points vaguely at the compiled accessories and then resorts to watching Sander mixing the developer and bleach together, occupying himself with reading the instructions on the bottle. He scrunches up his nose as the chemical smell irritates his nostrils and he’s honestly starting to feel sorry for Sander’s hair.

Once the mixture is ready and Sander is perched on the stool with an old towel around his neck, Robbe buries his fingers in his brown strands, loving the feeling of silkiness when he combes them back, making sure to scratch a little at the scalp.

It always makes Sander’s eyelids droopy, and the soft groans that leave his mouth when there’s a scratch at a particularly sensitive spot pull a giggle out of Robbe.

“I swear you were a cat in the previous life.”

“Probably, yeah,” Sander agrees in a soft voice that tells Robbe the skillful ministrations of his fingers are currently putting him on cloud nine.

“Oh my god, baby,” he moans, rolling his head slowly back and forth, and Robbe can see a shudder going through him. “If I’d known your hair bleaching assistance comes with a free head massage, I’d have recruited you sooner.”

His entire body visibly relaxes, Robbe’s magical fingers erasing every bit of stress that accumulated through the day with a practiced precision. “I swear, those fingers of yours were the god’s gift to humanity,” he pauses, his eyes searching for Robbe’s in the mirror as his lips stretch into a smirk. “Well, or at least a gift to me.”

Robbe indulges him because how could he not when Sander’s being so sweet and putty under his hands, so he doubles his efforts, receiving the cutest little purr at some point. 

“Your hair is so soft,” he marvels, combing through it with awe. “I kinda hate myself for what I’m about to do to it.”

“It’s okay, Robin, my hair forgives you.”

Robbe lets out a woeful sigh and reluctantly disentangles his fingers from the strands. “Okay, now after I said goodbye to brown, let’s get it over with, shall we?”

***

Ten minutes later every doubt Robbe had about his hair-coloring skills comes back tenfold.

“I can’t believe you dragged me into this,” he mutters with a hint of desperation as he clumsily covers the back of Sander’s hair with bleach, trying so hard not to fuck it up. 

“Now now, don’t be a party pooper, you’re going great!” Sander exclaims, with a bit too much enthusiasm in Robbe’s humble opinion. “Remember what I promised you as payment? Think about those delicious donuts waiting for you in the kitchen. Or my dick waiting to-”

“Do _not_ finish that sentence.”

Sander snorts, eyebrows wiggling impishly at Robbe’s deadpan impression that turns into a hopeless grimace again as soon as he brings his eyes back to the job at hand. 

He’s currently covering the midsection and the ends of Sander’s hair at the back of his head. He wanted to start from the top, thinking it’s probably the easiest way to do it but after hearing his oh so amateur offer, Sander sat him down and gave him a long lecture about how if you start with roots you’re going to end up with _orange_ roots which, yikes.

Sander hides his smile when he glances at him in the mirror because it’s so cute how much Robbe is trying to do a good job, biting his lower lip all the time to help him focus and make sure every hair is thoroughly covered.

Once Robbe is done with the back, Sander takes over with the front sections, his hands almost effortlessly covering up all the strands in no time after doing it many times before. Then, without waiting for Robbe to finish washing his hands from the gross glove residue, he starts covering all the roots himself too.

Propping himself on the sink, Robbe watches him for a minute with a growing amusement. “I’m not sure why you wanted my help when you’re doing just fine on your own.”

“But then I wouldn’t be able to admire that pout you make when you’re concentrating very hard,” Sander explains in that overly sickeningly sweet tone that makes Robbe jab him in the ribs like the little menace he is but also tilt his head back to give him a spiderman kiss. 

He can still taste the chocolate from the cookies on Sander’s lips so he licks deeper to get a proper taste, relishing in his soft needy whimper. Once it starts becoming really good he’s forced to pull back, the muscles in his neck screaming at him in despair, but he endures the pain for several additional seconds to leave a few more pecks on his way up, bumping their noses together to placate Sander’s displeased whines.

They double check if everything is covered evenly and then they take care of the mess in the sink.

“Hey, you know, crazy idea, but why couldn’t you get it bleached when you were at the salon recently?”

Sander shrugs. “Where’s the fun in that? Plus, I didn’t really think about it at the time, it kinda came to me this week,” he explains, putting away the now clean bowls and sitting back on the stool regarding himself in the mirror.

Robbe dries his hands on the towel, when suddenly something hits him.

“Hey, Sander, you’re gonna be “tall, blonde, and gorgeous” again,” he wiggles his brows for the better effect, expecting Sander’s smirk and what’s probably going to be a cocky retort, but the boy just stares at him perplexed. “Come on! That was such a good line!”

When the only thing he gets in return is Sander’s doubtful face he throws his arms in exasperation. “Haven’t you ever seen that McDonald’s ad? The photo of fries with the “tall, blonde, and gorgeous” written next to it?”

Sander shakes his head looking almost apologetic.

“You’re the worst,” Robbe mutters, pouting a little at his pathetic attempt of being flirty and witty not getting the result he expected.

He doesn’t have much time to sulk though because Sander hooks a finger in his belt loop and gives it a tug, a wicked smile blooming on his face, which makes him land straight in his lap.

“Were you flirting with me?”

Robbe crosses his arms. “No.”

“I think you were.”

“Well I think you’re full of shit.”

“Aww, but I thought it was cute.”

“You didn’t even get it!”

“Still, cute.” 

Robbe sizes him up, like he’s not sure if Sander’s making fun of him or not. Apparently, he’s satisfied with what he sees because he settles more firmly in his lap with a slight smile, his arms wrapping around Sander’s neck instinctively now when his ruffled feathers have been smoothed.

“Actually, I know a McDonald related line too. Wanna hear it?”

Robbe furrows his eyebrows and pretends to think about it before letting go of the act and nodding at Sander to go ahead, running his fingers through his hair to make himself look all pretty. “Shoot, I’m ready to be swept off my feet.”

Sander clears his throat for a better effect, playful smirk firm on his lips as he gives Robbe a seductive once over from under his half-closed lids. “If you were on the menu, you’d be a McBeautiful.”

To his surprise, a pleased blush blooms on Robbe’s cheeks as he smiles at him coyly, drawing him close to leave a lingering kiss on his lips.

“Look at you, being sweet.”

Sander throws him an affronted look. “I can be sweet. On occasion.”

“Sure, sure, only on occasion.” Robbe nods in agreement with a solemn expression even though they both know it’s a total bullshit; Sander can pretend to be a tough guy on his instagram all he wants, with his black and white aesthetics and filters and cigarettes and edginess but in reality, he’s a big softie with him.

Robbe’s not gonna lie, it’s making him feel pretty special.

So he leans in for a few more kisses, just to get a little bit more of his taste, but like it usually happens, they get carried away and keep making out for another few minutes. It’s okay though because they have all the time in the world now after the bleach has been applied and is doing wonders to Sander’s hair. 

Well. They have like 40 minutes. 

Semantics.

Once they get their fix, Robbe hoists himself from Sander’s lap, prying the boy’s wandering fingers from his butt with a giggle and winces at the state of the back of his t-shirt critically.

“Oh wow, I think I made a mess.”

Sander turns his head to take a look, twisting his face ridiculously and almost going cross-eyed. 

“Whatever, it was already destroyed anyway.” He regards himself in the mirror again, plucking at the developing hair and sighing long-sufferingly. “Ugh, I’ve always hated this part.”

Robbe’s not exactly surprised; Sander has many virtues but patience has never been one of them.

“Can’t wait to get this over with, I missed you those last 2 weeks.” Sander reaches his arms back and snakes them around Robbe’s narrow waist, squeezing a little to make his point across. 

Robbe feels a pang of guilt at that, knowing their restricted time has mostly been his fault. He’s just been trying really hard lately to balance school, a part time job, and working on his portfolio for film school application. It seems like the time he has left to finish it is shrinking with an abnormal speed and he’s getting more and more anxious about it. It’s all way more stressful than he anticipated.

And on top of that, it takes him away from Sander for longer than he would like which he hates and blames himself for.

It must be showing on his face because Sander seems to instantly turn on his “provide comfort” mode, his hands sneaking underneath Robbe’s t-shirt to graze the smooth skin.

“Hey, it’s okay, I get it, I’m not angry or anything,” he reassures him in a soft voice, drawing featherly light circles on his flat stomach.

Robbe shoots him a grateful look and goes to kiss his head, only stopping himself at the last second.

“Careful with the merchandise!”

“Eww, I almost got bleach on my lips.”

His face twists with such pure disgust that Sander cannot stop the uncontrollable giggle fit at his overreaction.

“So sensitive.”

There’s still a long while left until his hair can be washed so to kill time they prepare dinner for later, or rather, Sander prepares dinner and tea while Robbe is having a me time with his donuts perched on the counter next to him, currently munching gleefully on the blueberry one.

“Honey?”

Robbe looks up from over his donut. “Yeah?”

Sander chuckles, pouring boiled water in the cups. “Do you want honey in your tea?”

“Oh.” He blushes. “Sure.”

The boy stirs the mixture for a moment before placing it next to Robbe, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Honey for my honey.”

“Ugh, shut up,” Robbe whines, embarrassed, and hides his face in his hands. When Sander laughs again, he throws him an almost wounded look and groans again. “Quit being mean to me.”

Sander grabs his chin to angle his head and kisses his pout away, murmuring sweet nothings against his mouth. Once the daggers disappear from Robbe’s eyes and there’s a pretty flush on his cheeks instead, he goes back to stirring the sauce while Robbe treats himself to another donut.

“Want some?” Robbe generously offers his partly eaten pastry so Sander reduces the fire under the pot before leaning in to take a huge bite out of it and nibbles at Robbe’s fingers in the process, delighting in the squeak he receives.

“Did you do this on purpose?!” Robbe shrieks scandalized and he starts blowing at his finger as if instead of just a small graze, half of his finger has gotten devoured. 

Sander takes that as his cue for trapping him against the counter and proceeds to take some more small bites, this time along his jawline. 

Robbe tries to be strong and lean away from it but internally, he’s already a pile of goo after a few short seconds, defenseless anytime Sander does as little as breathe in that area. Those are his weak spots, his true kryptonite, and Sander absolutely loves to use it against him, the cheeky bastard.

But he does it in the most _satysfying_ way so Robbe is very forgiving in that matter.

Head lolling on his shoulder to give him more room to work with, Robbe’s eyes close on their own accord and his grip on the counter becomes stronger as shiver after shiver washes over him. Sander is doing his magic without really doing much and Robbe would be embarrassed by how sensitive he is if it wasn't for Sander confessing to him how much that actually turns him on.

The bites turn into gentle sucking and somewhere in the back of Robbe’s brain there is a voice telling him he’s going to have to deal with hickies come tomorrow but, well, that’s a problem for tomorrow Robbe. For now, that thought seems so irrelevant that it has no chance of getting through to him when confronted with a tongue stroking up the side of his neck and warm puffs of air tickling the hair behind his ear.

He barely restricts himself from pulling on Sander’s hair to release some pressure, his fingers tingling with the need to grab onto something, so he just lets his hands trail down his back and stop at one of his favorite destinations. As soon as he starts kneading at his ass, Sander burrows his hand in Robbe’s curls and steps in fully between his dangling legs, effectively getting rid of any space between them and continues to coax out one sigh after another.

From the outside, they probably look ridiculous, with Sander’s hair sticking in all directions as they lighten gradually under a heavy layer of bleach, but Robbe doesn’t care as he loops his legs around his thighs and snakes his hands under his shirt, trailing his fingers across the bare skin of his back. He can feel the shiver that goes through Sander at that and when the boy retreats from making a feast out of his neck and dives in to kiss him, he meets him halfway with the kind of enthusiasm that reflects the pent up longing that has been building in him for the last two weeks of constant work and no intimacy between them. 

Sander seems to share that sentiment because he wastes no time before turning the kiss hungry, his tongue reclaiming his mouth after a too long separation period, pulling at his hair as it gains intensity. 

Robbe was very hopeful for this evening to take this specific turn but he thought he was going to have to endure another few hours of no touching before anything happened; this hair bleaching process is unfortunately way longer than he would like. So he’s going to take what he gets and not look a gift horse in the mouth, even if the edge of the counter is digging uncomfortably into his thighs and he’s close to slipping off of it any second now.

A delicious shudder races through him, nerves thrilling when he can feel the lightest pressure of Sander’s hips pushing into his. He whimpers against his lips, fingers gripping at his shirt, clutching the soft material to pull him closer and Sander goes without hesitation, arches how Robbe needs him to. Robbe’s mouth falls open with a choked-off gasp, his eyes going cross for a moment, before closing and sinking back into the kiss. 

Just when he’s about to pant into Sander’s unyielding mouth that they should move this somewhere more comfortable, the timer on Sander’s phone goes off and it’s so sudden Robbe could cry at the timing of it. 

“Nooo,” he whines when Sander pulls back, chasing after him unconsciously. 

“I need to go wash it off, baby.” He gets a consoling kiss before putting some more distance between them, straightening out his rumpled clothes. “We’ll get back to it once I’m-, how did it go? Tall, blonde and gorgeous?” He asks, tongue in cheek, clearly having way too much fun with it. 

Robbe swings his leg to kick him in the butt but Sander is faster, dodging his malicious foot by mere millimeters. He turns off the stove completely and tugs on Robbe’s arm.

“Come on, I’m gonna teach you the science of toning your hair now.”

“Riveting,” Robbe deadpans but jumps off the counter like the obedient boy he is, albeit a bit awkwardly given the state he’s in. 

Sander considers him with a cocky smirk over his shoulder. “Are you okay over there?”

“Shut up, it’s your fault for not following through.”

That makes his jaw drop comically. “Excuse me, do you want my hair to be all crazy because I waited too long to rinse the bleach off?”

Robbe narrows his eyes on him as they walk to the bathroom. “Well then maybe you shouldn’t have riled me up!”

“Stop pinning this on me! You started it!”

“How did I start it?!”

“By being too cute and hot eating those damn donuts, duh! How do you expect me _not_ to eat you right up after that?”

“Oh my god, you’re such a dork.” He pushes at his face in fond exasperation, laughing when Sander grabs his hand before he can take it back and leaves kisses on the tips of his fingers.

“I'm your dork though, right?”

After getting his affirmation in the form of an eskimo kiss, Sander winks at him and then gets back to work.

“Are you sure this is the right one?” Robbe examines the toner bottle with a frown. 

“Yep.”

“But it says it's a blue-based toner?”

“That’s because I don’t want to end up with orange undertones.” When Robbe keeps giving him a quizzical look, he continues patiently. “Blue cancels out the orange.”

“If you say so.”

“I did it quite a few times, Robin.”

“Oh I’m sorry, I did not know I’m talking to mister Expert, my sincere apologies.”

“Apologies taken,” Sander replies in a lofty tone and serious face and Robbe snorts.

Once everything is prepared for the next step and Robbe’s head is full of information about different tones of blonde, it’s finally time for Sander to wash the stinking bleach out of his hair.

Robbe sat his butt on the edge of the bathtub a few minutes ago and is currently picking at his fingernail when the sudden silence makes him look up and see Sander cocking his brow at him expectantly. When he tilts his head in question, Sander points at the door.

“Do you... want me to leave?”

“Yes!” Sander grabs his shoulders and steers him towards the hall, shooing him out. “I need to wash it, dry it a bit, apply the toner and then style it, and _then_ I’ll come out and dazzle you. So you can’t be here.”

He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world so Robbe doesn’t argue and backs off, chuckling as Sander closes the door in his face with another wink.

***

It doesn’t take Sander more than half an hour to complete the process but by minute 10 Robbe is bored out of his mind. 

See, he and his boyfriend share that lack of patience thingy.

He goes back to the kitchen and darts a look inside the pot with their dinner and the spaghetti seems to be ready to eat so he puts some on a plate and digs in, feeling only a little guilty for not waiting on Sander. It tastes amazing, like everything prepared by his boyfriend who seems to have a talent for cooking with minimum effort.

Mid-bite, he remembers to shoot his mom a text to remind her he’s staying over at Sander’s and after that he grabs his backpack and goes upstairs to Sander’s bedroom, throwing the adjacent bathroom a contemplative look. There’s no sign of his boyfriend finishing making himself extra pretty anytime soon so he just shrugs to himself and goes in there, turns on the shower and takes off his clothes before stepping under what has to be the best water pressure in the universe. 

If there’s anything Sander has in that fancy house of his that Robbe is jealous of it’s definitely his shower with all its settings.

It’s truly divine.

He scrubs himself all over, washes his hair and then he just stands there, right under the stream, enjoying every second as the water steams the shower walls. It feels so relaxing that his mind drifts; away from school work, away from the ideas for his portfolio, away from the rest of his responsibilities. It becomes blissfully empty.

Then it takes a rather sudden turn and drifts back to that moment in the kitchen, and Robbe can feel his body reacting instantly at the memory of promise of later in Sander’s eyes. 

He shifts a little under the unyielding stream, the growing throbbing in the pit of his stomach making him bite his lower lip as he can barely restrain himself from slipping his hands down his body. The steam is engulfing him like a warm embrace and his eyelids are growing heavier with each second until they slide shut completely.

His mind isn’t exactly cooperative though, filling his thoughts with the memory of the sensation of Sander’s insistent mouth on his neck and every bit of willpower to wait for him flies out the window.

It doesn’t take much for him to start feeling desperate, yearning for Sander’s touch with every stroke, his mind swimming, switched off from his surroundings to a point where he doesn’t register the glass door sliding open until a hand on his stomach startles him.

“Are you having fun without me?”

The words are breathed straight to his ear and his stomach flip-flops in arousal when he feels Sander’s naked body behind him, feels him mouthing kisses up his neck.

“You’re just the hottest little thing, baby, standing here like that.” His teeth graze the golden loop in his ear, tugging at it a little and all the blood left in Robbe’s brain promptly takes a trip south.

He hastily turns around in his arms to pull him into a kiss and it’s only then he remembers what they were doing before.

And, wow.

There’s something about this particular look on Sander, something he can’t pinpoint that never fails to make his heart beat faster. Maybe it’s because this is how he looked when Robbe fell in love with him, when he saw him for the first time, during their first kiss, their first everything.

“Holy fuck, you look so hot.”

Sander grins, a little cockiness in his smile as he brushes his hair with his fingers, Robbe knocking his hand away to get his own on those blond strands, in awe of how huge the difference is. Sander quickly gets impatient though, not giving him the chance to inspect some more as he backs him up the wall, crashing their mouths together. 

There’s too much underlying tension in both of them to take things slowly, tongues fighting for dominance as they slide together. A fleeting thought passes Robbe’s brain and he curses himself for coming in here unprepared, but then Sander proves himself in being the best kind of a scout boy, smirking against his lips when Robbe breaks their kiss to look down in search for the source of the crinkling of plastic and notices the packet of lube in his hand. 

Sander takes such good care of him, handling him so carefully and sweet despite their growing desperation, reducing him to a moaning mess and short circuiting his mind with pleasure almost numbing at times. Eventually, he fits his face into Robbe’s nape and mouths silent words into his pulse as they quickly find their rhythm. The feeling of Sander’s heartbeat right against his back makes him reach back blindly, grabbing him by his hair to kiss his puffy from biting lips, wanting to get impossibly closer still.

His moves are coaxing Robbe straight to the edge, pulling whimpers out of him with every twist and roll and he eats those sounds out of mouth, using the grip around his waist to fuck into him quicker, snapping his hips harder and Robbe’s eyes squeeze shut. He feels his head rolling back on Sander’s shoulder without his control, toes curling, body locked down tight. He’s lost in overwhelming sensations, Sander steadily rocking him through it, world spinning and he chokes for breath.

“Sander,” he whispers, unable to force more volume from his lips as he feels his orgasm slither down his back, drawing a loud groan from his lips. Sander makes a surprised little grunt behind him and the noise zings through his convulsing body like an electric current, powered by the feeling of Sander reaching his climax seconds later, biting his shoulder hard and then licking over the mark, wrapping his arms around him, satisfying their need for closeness as they both try to catch their breaths. 

***

Unsurprisingly for a February day, it’s already completely dark outside when they finally stumble into Sander’s bed, their still shaky legs barely holding them vertical at this point but it doesn’t stop them from stopping and exchanging a few more giggly kisses on their way over, plugging in the fairy lights above the bed that give the room a cozy vibe.

They eventually fling themselves on the mattress and end up in a big pile of limbs with a few groans of complaints being let out here and there when an elbow or knee accidently knocks into a sensitive body part. Once they get themselves sorted out and lie down properly, their bodies gravitate towards each other like magnets, with Robbe’s head tucked into the crook of Sander’s neck and Sander’s fingers drawing circles on the boy’s bare shoulder.

It’s almost eerily quiet around them, the only sound that reaches their ears being their slow breathing, and for a while now this has been Robbe’s favorite sound in the world. When they can just exist in each other’s space, with no words necessary, no alarm clocks ruining their peace, or phones pinging every five seconds.

Sander’s eyes are closed, dark eyelashes fluttering a little on his rosy cheeks, and the image he makes with that content smile dancing on his pink lips and messy hair fill Robbe’s head with all kinds of ideas.

The fingers trailing slowly across his arm leave goosebumps in their wake and Robbe cuddles closer to steal some body heat from Sander, ignoring the fact that his wet hair probably tickles the underside of his jaw, especially since the boy doesn’t seem to care much. In fact, Robbe snuggling deeper into his neck gives him unlimited access to his forehead so he leaves there a few kisses, sighing happily.

“So,” he starts, pausing for a better effect and waits until Robbe rests his chin on his chest to look at him questioningly. “I know it’s not Valentine's Day yet, but, um, would you like to get your first gift?”

He’s clearly not expecting the swat at the shoulder because the look of surprise on his face is hilarious. “I told you not to get me multiple gifts!”

“Calm down, the real gift will come tomorrow, this is more of a, um, starter.”

When Robbe keeps looking at him suspiciously, he rolls his eyes fondly. “I promise, it’s gonna be just one.”

He sounds convincing enough for Robbe to slump back into his arms and give him a go ahead, wide-eyed in growing excitement.

He reaches somewhere out of Robbe’s sight and after a bit of rummaging around his eyes are met with the sight of the cutest little koala plushie holding a small red heart in his hands he has ever seen.

“I know it’s cheesy but when I saw it I just couldn’t _not_ buy it,” Sander explains, squirming under Robbe’s weight and biting his lower lip like he’s a little embarrassed. Then, he lightly bumps the tip of Robbe’s nose with the koala’s little one and Robbe’s insides liquify. 

He keeps staring at his flushed face wondering how the fuck he managed to snatch himself a this beautiful dork that has a heart made of fluff. 

Lifting himself from his chest, he beams at him, thumb skimming the skin under his eye.

“I love you.”

Sander’s _I love you too_ is swallowed by Robbe’s mouth, capturing his pink lips in a soft kiss, still swollen from before. Then he grazes the bridge of his nose affectionately and feels Sander’s hands rubbing his back lightly in response.

“It’s so fucking cute,” Robbe whispers against his lips, and Sander grins at him, loopy and sweet.

Robbe soaks it all up, his smile, this moment, their little bubble of love that they created for themselves and he swallows against the emotion welling in his throat. He goes to run his fingers through that freshly bleached hair and decides to blame it for his emotional state. That particular look brings back so many memories. But he doesn’t want to dwell on them right now, not when he has Sander underneath him, looking at him with a happy satisfied smile while lazily drawing patterns on his chest with his long fingers. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Robbe murmurs around the clog in his throat and voices his previous thought. “How did I get so lucky?”

“It’s still a mystery,” Sander muses, playing cocky for a second but then his face softens, cradling his face between his hands, gently, like it’s something extremely precious, and bringing their mouths together in a kiss that pulls a whimper out of Robbe. He loves those moments when Sander just takes over, sliding his tongue lazily across his lips and into his mouth, answering Robbe’s moan with one of his own.

They keep making out for what feels like hours, trading tongues back and forth, biting at each other’s lips and whispering sweet nothings in damp breaths. The poor koala ends up being squished between their naked chests and at one particular move his plastic nose digs painfully into Sander’s left nipple, making him yelp and break the kiss.

“Ow,” he whines petulantly, rubbing at the nub. “Robin, could you please control your wild animal?”

Robbe stifles his laughter. “Aww, I’ll kiss it better,” he offers, and starts kissing his way along Sander’s neck, trailing down to his collarbone and his bare chest until he reaches his goal, slowly flicking the tip of his tongue over the rosy bud, feeling it harden with stimulation, relishing in Sander’s darkened pupils and labored breathing. It makes him feel so powerful that he can reduce him to a writhing mess with just a few licks to his nipples.

“Don’t start something you won’t finish,” Sander gasps, his voice strained.

He throws him a heated look from under his half-closed lids. “Who said I won’t?”

***

**February 14th**

Robbe wakes up several hours later, not quite sure what woke him up. He blinks owlishly at the light peeking through the curtains and smacks his lips together, stifling a huge yawn. His body feels so stiff he wants nothing more but to stretch his muscles but it’s not an easy task with Sander plastered to his back, arm around his waist as he holds on possessively. 

Thankfully, he seems to be waking up too, judging by the pathetic whine that comes from behind Robbe.

“Can you make those birds shut up?”

It’s only then Robbe registers the chirping coming from just outside of the bedroom window. That must have been the reason for his early wake up call.

“Oh shush, they’re cute.”

He grins when he feels Sander’s objection against his back, squirming at the tickling sensation when he tries to burrow his face between his shoulder blades to muffle the birds.

“You’re cute. They’re annoying.”

Robbe turns in his arms, giggling at his grabby hands trying to draw him back in and pushes himself into a seating position to finally stretch properly, joints cracking, and he basks in the feeling of being pleasantly sore in all the right places. 

The cute snuffling coming from the pillow next to him almost makes him coo but he resorts to just admiring the pout of epic proportions on Sander’s lips.

His boyfriend is not exactly what one would call a morning person.

He huffs and turns over, retreating his body back under the safe haven of his navy blue sheets, the duvet pulled up to his ears with only the white tips of dishevelled hair sticking out, and a few minutes later the even breathing coming from under the heap of material lets Robbe know Sander is not yet ready to enter the land of living and prefers to be a living burrito for the time being.

Oh well. He’s just handing him the perfect opportunity for breakfast in bed.

After a quick morning routine, Robbe pulls on his favorite hoodie (Sander’s) and goes to rummage in the Driesens’ fridge for the ingredients for the only breakfast he can manage without burning the house down. 

Pancakes it is. 

Still, he has to concentrate very hard not to screw them up, the chaotic energy in him bursting at the seams to get out and create a big mess. He has the coffee brewing already because he’s aware that there’s no point showing his face in Sander’s bedroom before 10 without it. The machine is a little bit louder than he would like and he hopes it’s not going to wake him up. 

Amongst the jars and bottles in the cupboard, he finds raspberry jam, peanut butter, almond butter, maple syrup and honey, so he places it all on the tray, along with a glass vase with three white tulips he sneaked into Sander’s house yesterday.

He snorts to himself when he remembers the lady at the flower shop trying to convince him to buy a red tulip instead, claiming his _girlfriend_ was going to prefer red over white because hey, it’s Valentine's Day! A holiday, when red throws up all over everything.

She didn’t say it in those exact words but the meaning stayed the same. 

Robbe didn’t feel like explaining to her that red doesn’t exactly go with his _boyfriend's_ aesthetics and he ended up buying _three_ white tulips instead of one, just to be a little shit. 

Once everything is as nicely arranged as he can manage, Robbe goes back to flipping his pancakes that look surprisingly edible while keeping one eye on the brewing coffee. 

He’s so deep in thought that when he feels arms sliding around his waist it nearly takes his breath away for good.

It’s a miracle the pancakes don’t end up on the ceiling with the sudden jerk of his hands so he elbows Sander in retaliation.

“You have to stop doing that or I’m gonna have a heart attack one day!”

There’s a gentle tickle of warm breath next to his ear as Sander chuckles, pulling him closer to his chest as he nuzzles his nose into Robbe’s neck, breathing in deeply. 

“Sorry, didn’t want to scare you, baby.” His hands caress his stomach muscles, warm weight molding against his spine.

Robbe’s heart is still hammering in his ribcage but the apology kisses that Sander is currently trailing across his shoulder along with the strong grip he has on his bony hips ground him and make his body slump into his embrace, relaxing.

“You weren’t supposed to get up yet.” Robbe narrows his eyes at him accusingly once he gives him a proper good morning kiss, one that fills him up with warmth and fluttery feelings which, honestly, is always the best kind of morning. They haven’t had a morning like that in longer than he likes to think about.

“Aww, were you cooking me breakfast?” Sander peeks over his shoulder with a childlike joy.

“Maybe.” Robbe aims for a casual tone, turning back to the stove to give the pancakes one more flip. 

From the corner of his eye he can see Sander smirking at his feigned indifference, love and mischief sparkling in his eyes as he gives him a once over. “You know, I think I like it when you wear my clothes.”

Robbe ducks his head a little bashfully, a pleased smile blooming on his face, and when he deems the pancakes ready, he finally turns off the fire and turns around to give Sander his full attention, looping his arms around his neck, one hand immediately burying in the freshly white strands.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” He beams, satisfied that he beat him to it for once. 

Sander is onto him of course as he shakes his head in disbelief, mockingly affronted. “So rude of you, taking away the chance of me doing that first.”

Robbe pats his chest consolingly. “Aww, it’s okay, you’re still holding the title of being the cheesiest one in this relationship.”

The boy gasps, widening his eyes like it's brand new information as he jumps away from him. “Oh we’re in a relationship?!” 

Robbe rolls his eyes to the ceiling at his antics and he lets out a mock sigh. “Apparently yes, despite you being super embarrassing.” 

That coaxes a laugh out of him and Robbe can’t stop the grin of his own. In times like these, he’s reminded how much he loves this thing between them; this shorthand, camaraderie, banter, this _friendship_. And then the cherry on top in the form of the abundance of fuzzy feelings filling his chest every time Sander is within arm’s reach. 

And their love, of course. He _loves_ their love. 

The pure kind but also the physical kind, full of passion, heat and _raw_ intensity.

Yet again, he gets lost in that pretty smile and sparkling green eyes.

A soft slap on his butt brings him back to reality. He bats Sander’s wandering hands away, claiming they have breakfast to eat but then he ignores his own words and wraps his arms tightly around him, standing on his tiptoes to meet his _still growing (so fucking unfair)_ boyfriend in an open-mouthed kiss that lacks yesterday’s urgency yet but instead, they both try to pour every ounce of love and devotion into it. 

Sander backs him up against the counter but doesn’t take it any further, just licks slowly into his mouth, thorough as always, murmuring _I love yous_ and _happy Valentine’s Days_ and Robbe’s brain positively oozes out of his ears. For a short moment he considers abandoning their breakfast but he worked so hard on it that he personally wants to feed it to Sander. 

The grumbling in his stomach makes Sander draw back anyway, chuckling as he presses a quick kiss to his cheek.

“I think your body is demanding that delicious food you made over there,” he nods at the hot pan, steaming with the last pancake Robbe abandoned to get more kisses.

He sits him down at the kitchen island, threatening with his finger not to move to Sander’s great amusement and a minute later, he places the filled to the brim with food tray in front of him with a flourish, preening a little on the inside, before plopping his butt on the empty chair on his right. 

He hooks his chin over Sander’s shoulder as the boy takes a sip of his coffee. 

“This whole thing looks amazing.” He twists his head to kiss his temple. “Thank you, baby.” 

Robbe cuts him a glance from under his longish curls, eyes bright and happy. He just can’t take his eyes off him this morning, still in wonder over his new-old look, pulling at his heartstrings. 

He’s so gone for him. 

“Have I told you already that you look really hot?”

Sander sticks his tongue to his lip to hold back a smile but his resolve breaks and his mouth spreads into a pleased grin.

“Yes, actually, many times yesterday. But please, continue.”

Robbe doesn’t, for now; instead, he pulls the white tulips from behind his back, a little nervous.

“You got me tulips?” 

His voice is so full of awe that Robbe doesn’t know how to react so his response is just the tiniest of shrugs before he sighs wistfully.

“I’m sorry it’s just flowers, it’s just that, um, money has been tight lately, and I thought those were really pretty? I promise, next time I’m gonna give you like a huge bunch of roses with petals sprinkled everywhere and hundreds of tea candles-”

His winded explanation is muffled by what must be the softest, loveliest kiss anyone’s ever gotten. When he eventually opens his eyes and shoots Sander a covert glance he finds him staring at him unabashedly, chin propped with the palm of his hand on the table.

“You’re amazing, and these,” he takes the flowers from Robbe’s hands, “are gorgeous. Like you.”

At that, he brings their entwined fingers to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to Robbe’s knuckles, and how sweet is that?

So sweet Robbe’s heart feels like it’s about to burst.

The only thing he’s capable of doing right now is giving him a shy smile.

“And, um, about those roses and shit,” Sander scratches his head before wrinkling his nose adorably. “I’m not sure I’m the rose petals and candles everywhere kind of guy.” 

Robbe slumps with relief on his chair. “Oh thank god, because I hate roses.”

“Match made in heaven!” Sander exclaims and high fives him, which effectively erases the emotional tension in Robbe as he laughs.

The tulips are carefully put back in the water by Sander himself and then they can finally start on their breakfast which has gone a bit cold but it’s not like it matters much when they’re so focused on each other, giggling as they try to feed one another, purposefully missing several times before finally giving in. Sander is a bit apprehensive at first, after the tomato incident, but when Robbe calls him a big baby he stops overreacting. 

The rest of the day is spent in Sander’s bed, watching Netflix and exchanging kisses tasting of cheap strawberries they stole from the freezer and fed to each other until their stomachs hurt. 

It’s spent on a trip to the supermarket because Sander craves more chocolate chip cookies. It’s where he buys a big heart-shaped lollipop for Robbe as a joke which Robbe then turns against him, having a bit too much fun licking it all over while looking at him slyly with his half-lidded eyes, a preview of what's gonna come later, and giving Sander the most inconvenient boner on their way back.

It’s spent on Sander having the time of his life gleefully teasing Robbe with more McDonald’s related one liners he finds online and making him groan in embarrassment at each and every one of them (“You’re lucky I haven’t eaten yet, because you can be my Happy Meal” being Sander’s personal favorite - he likes this one so much he decides to fulfil it and ruins Robbe with his tongue to a point he swears he sees the face of god). 

It’s spent on Sander taking artsy photos of his white tulips and posting one to his instagram with a _Thank you for always buying me cookies and killing spiders for m_ e ❤ instead of a song quote which is a surprising turn of events, for which Robbe, naturally, teases him mercilessly. But he secretly loves it.

And then, when he falls asleep with his head in Robbe’s lap, with _Free Fallin’_ playing softly in the background, Robbe takes a picture of his own; capturing Sander's softened with slumber features, his slightly parted lips that are tinted his favorite shade of red from the rest of strawberry juice that Robbe hasn’t yet managed to lick away, the fluttering with dreams eyelids, and that bleach blond hair being stroked lovingly by his fingers, the color standing out so much against the tan of Sander’s skin.

The idea for the caption to the picture comes to his mind easily.

 _Tall, blonde, gorgeous and mine #valentinesday_ ❤️

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are super awesome and appreciated so much 💗💗💗
> 
> (in case you wondered or you're not able to see emojis, at the beginning Sander texts to Robbe to marry him because he remembered about David Bowie's birthday ;) )


End file.
